


Handle With Care

by kateyes085



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst and Humor, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Military Background, Pen Pals, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Service Dogs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-03 22:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14578971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kateyes085/pseuds/kateyes085
Summary: Lennie frequently sends out care packages for the troops, and when she learns about a pen pal program, she quickly signs up.  She is assigned to Captain Thomas Pestock and their relationship develops over a series of letters during his deployment.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All stories posted are not for profit and are works of fiction. Read tags and proceed with caution. This might not be your cuppa.  
> Beta: None. All errors are mine.  
> Feedback is love and honest criticisms are appreciated.

~*~

"Lennie, this is like the sixth care package you’ve sent out in the last three months," Skylar says stamping it Priority Class Express because of the cookies Lennie was sending.  Lennie just smiles at her. Skylar grabs a pamphlet from behind the counter, "Have you considered trying the pen pal program?"

"Pen pal program?" Lennie asks taking the pamphlet from her and studying it.

"You fill out the form, send it to that address," She says pointing it out to her, "and you get assigned to a soldier. You'll send letters back and forth, things like that and maybe make a new friend," Skylar explains.  Lennie fills it out right then and there and mails it off.

About two weeks later, she gets an official letter telling her that she has been approved, and it lists Captain Thomas Pestock. Lennie did not really know where to start, so she writes a letter just introducing herself.

 

> _Dear Captain Pestock,_
> 
> _My name is Lennie Kennedy, and I guess I'm your new pen pal. I'm not entirely sure where to start so if it’s okay I’d like to ask you some questions about yourself?  If you don’t want to answer them that’s fine. I’m just curious about the person that I’m writing to. What do you look like? I have short black hair with multicolor highlights (currently) and brown eyes.   Some say I’m short … I prefer vertically challenged._
> 
> _Where did you live before you were deployed? I live in Brooklyn, New York. I have lived here my whole life.  My grandfather owned a three-story walkup building that I inherited and now manage with the help of a very questionable Sup, but that’s a story for another day._
> 
> _I should probably tell you a little bit more about myself.  I am 22 and I just finished my Bachelor’s in Fine Arts at NYU.  I am starting my Master’s next spring in Art History. I was lucky to secure a paying intern position at The Met and have been working at that for the past two months.  It is both exciting and stressful, but I enjoy the work I’m currently doing._
> 
> _As you may have guessed, I like to draw, but my main focus will be teaching.  I do love the restoration work I’m currently doing though. I still have time to figure all that out though._
> 
> _Do you have any hobbies? Or things you enjoy?  How about music? I like all kinds of music but my favorite are the old punk bands from the 70’s.  I wish I could play the guitar. I can play the piano though._
> 
> _Your name sounds so official, not that that’s a bad thing.  Do people call you Tommy? Most people call me Lennie because I don’t tell them my real first name._
> 
> _I think it's amazing that you joined up.  My dad did, but he didn’t come home from Desert Storm.  I would have joined, but I have too many medical problems that prevent me from joining.  In lieu of that, I send care packages all the time. It’s just my way of trying to help. I love doing it. Even if it's just a little bit of help I'm providing.  Do you need anything? Make me a list._
> 
> _Thanks for reading this, and I hope to hear from you soon._
> 
> _\- Lennie_

Lennie sends it out the next day, on her way home from The Met. The snow soaks her jeans and gets into her boots.  She is shivering violently by the time she closes the door of her apartment. She turns up the heat and puts the kettle on, struggling out of her boots and jeans on her way to her room to change.  The kettle starts to whistle so she puts on two pairs of socks and fixes herself a cup of hot chocolate. She curls up on the couch with her electric blanket, her cocoa and Battlestar Galactica on Hulu.

~*~

She gets a letter about a week later.  She opens it at the luncheonette around the corner from work on her lunch break.  Her stomach flipping excitedly.

 

> **_Hey Lennie,_ **
> 
> **_Not too sure what I should say, either. I'm damn glad you gave me questions. I’m from Kansas so I’m used to snow being a bitch.  Miss it there, sometimes. Hell, spent last Christmas here and am probably gonna spend the next one here too._ **
> 
> **_I can't draw worth A shit. I'll show you by drawing something at the bottom. I play the guitar; Well, I used to. Not much use for it over here. I listen to mostly metal music.  Between that and the random insurgents, my hearing is pretty much shot these days._ **
> 
> **_just call me Tom, okay? I hate Tommy. And I'll call you Lennie, 'cause I'll remember it.  Come on! You gotta tell me your real name, man._ **
> 
> **_I’m sorry to hear about your dad and granddad.  I know it’s hard when you lose a loved one. Lost my dad before i joined up.  Just so you know, i think it’s great what you’re doin’ with the care packages.  Sometimes, we feel left out or forgotten. I mean most of the guys have loved ones back home, kids, wives, etc.  I have my brother and his wife but that’s about it. No girl waitin’ for me or anything. I do have my dog, Xander.  I trained him out of bootcamp. Can’t get into too much detail about what we do, but he makes being here easier. Him and my best friend, Matt._ **
> 
> **_Hey! If you get a chance, can you throw in a chocolate bar with your next letter?  I haven't had chocolate in months. Don't go outta your way or nothin’._ **
> 
> **_It's good to meet you, Lennie and thanks._ **
> 
> **_-Tom_ **

Lennie laughs at the little drawing down next to Tom's signature.  It looks like an elephant, she thinks. It's horribly adorable. Lennie eats some more of her lunch while she sketches out an elephant to send back to him with a note written on the back.

 

> _\- I’ll head out to the zoo and draw you some more animals. - L_

She heads to the store and picks up two bags of chocolate chips, and the next morning she makes [ chocolate chunk cookies ](https://sallysbakingaddiction.com/2013/05/13/chewy-chocolate-chunk-cookies/) . She sets them off to cool while she starts working on a batch of [ PB dog bones ](https://damndelicious.net/2015/01/07/homemade-peanut-butter-dog-treats/) for Xander.  She waits for them to cool by putting together the rest of Tom’s care package.  She takes her time putting together his box. She lays down one of the afghans that she knitted in the bottom of the box.  He probably would not need it in desert, but she heard that it can get cold at night, plus it was a nice personal touch, something she always puts in her care packages.  She also added socks, a men’s grooming kit, some crossword, Sudoku, word search puzzle game books and both Tom and Xander’s cookies in airtight containers lined with tissue paper.  On top, she lays her letter in an envelope and the drawings she made.

 

> _Dear Tom,_
> 
> _The snow is a bitch when I’m trying to make my way to The Met each day.  Fergie insists that he come over and take care of me sometimes. He’s convinced I’m gonna freeze to death on him.  We’ve known each other since freshman year. He lives upstairs from me now and has started making a name for himself with his graphic novels.  I’m so proud of him. I know! I’ll send you a picture of my Christmas tree when I get it put up. I think I’m going to be alone this Christmas since Fergie’s talking about going back to Ireland to spend it with his parents._
> 
> _Your drawing was adorable.  A cute, small, deformed elephant. It was sweet.  I'm so jealous that you can play the guitar._
> 
> _I know you asked for just a candy bar, but I packed some of chocolate chunk cookies for you and your best friend as well some treats for Xander that I made. That should be enough for you to get your fix, I really hope you like them._
> 
> _Be safe._
> 
> _-Lennie_
> 
> _PS:  If I told ya’ my real name, well then I’d have to kill ‘ya.  ;P_

~*~

Lennie is giddy when she gets her next letter.

 

> **_Lennie -_ **
> 
> **_Jesus Christ, these cookies are amazing. Goddammit! I'm getting crumbs all over the letter, I'm sorry.  Matt’s making a fool of himself as usual._ **
> 
> _Thank you Lennie! If I wasn’t married, I would kiss your feet … don't tell my wife! - Matt_
> 
> **_Xander loves his treats.  You made all this stuff? I love the blanket. Did you make that too?  It feels like heaven. Thank you for all your awesome gifts._ **
> 
> **_Are you trying to show me up? realistic drawings that totally beats out mine? Really? (You’ve got some real talent there babe).  Can’t wait to see what else you send me._ **
> 
> **_Hey, maybe I'll teach you to play guitar. It ain't too hard. I’d love to see your place decorated for the holiday.  We have a damn Charlie Brown Christmas tree. The other troops usually get ornaments from their families, their kids if they got any. It's not too bad... What are your Christmases like?_ **
> 
> **_-Tom_ **
> 
> **_PS:  Oh come on!  Not even a hint?  You gotta give me somethin’, babe._ **

Lennie feels her chest flutter, and she feels good, really good. Tom seems to like her.  She lifts her eyes from the letter to see Fergal moving around his kitchen. Tonight is their dinner night.  Joe usually works late on Wednesdays at the precinct. Lennie knows that Fergie is just worried about her. She is constantly telling him that she is fine, but that does not stop him from carrying on and worrying.  She smiles at him when she notices that he is watching her, "So, who's that from, luv?"

She gets up and runs her fingers over a crinkled edge on the paper, "My pen pal, he wrote back."

"The army fellow you mentioned? Well, what did he say?" He peeks over to her shoulder while washing off his hands.

"I sent him a package," Lennie glances back down to the letter, "He liked my cookies a lot …. and, and my drawings."

"He'd be mad not to." He says drying off his hands, then rubs his thumb over her cheek.

"He seems like he’s a good guy." Lennie smiles, folding the letter away and setting it aside on the counter. She will put it with the others later. She rolls up her sleeves and washes her hands, going to help him fix dinner.

"Do you know what he looks like?" Fergal asks, moving around her to take a pan of the breaded chicken Lennie had prepared and puts it into the preheated oven before he looks up at Lennie.

"Uh ... No. I don't, actually. They only sent me his name and the address," Lennie starts thinking, Tom does not know what she looks like either.  Maybe that's a good thing … then, Tom will not know how short, skinny and sickly looking she is, "I guess I could ask him." Fergal just gives her a nod and starts making their fruit salad.

~*~

Lennie is actually nervous about asking Tom what he looks like.  She had asked before but he had not answered. Tom may not want her to know. He could get mad and stop writing.  Either way, Lennie wanted to know.

 

> _Tom,_
> 
> _I'm really glad you liked everything. Just let me know when you want some more and I’ll put another package together._
> 
> _Hey! Charlie Brown Christmas trees aren't that bad. I should know, I used to have one. Now, I have a much bigger one.  Fergal told me my small one was just so sad. But I will send you a picture when my tree is decorated and all lit up. I put it up right after Thanksgiving because I can’t wait to start the holiday season.  Christmas is good here. If kind of small. My grandfather and father are gone. My mother is not in my life. I have a few friends that I celebrate the holidays with. It’s probably better that way. I tend to get anxious in large groups, but I’m working on it since I do want to be a teacher._
> 
> _Okay so, I wanted to ask you something. You can say no and I won’t be upset, but I was wondering what you looked like. I don't even know how old you are, either. Sometimes I just start wondering what you look like when you open my letters.  I'm sorry. Is that asking too much?_
> 
> _Be Safe,_
> 
> _-Lennie_

She regrets sending it out … really regrets sending it out.  She even tries running after the mail truck to get it back, but has an asthma attack, and finally, ends up panicking more and more each day when she has not gotten a reply.

~*~


	2. Chapter 2

~*~

The letter comes two weeks later.

 

> **_Lennie,_ **
> 
> **_Sorry this took so long for me to send. I had trouble finding a picture, but I finally got one. The sun is a bit bright, but you can still see me. I can tell you about me too, since you have already told me so many things about you._ **
> 
> **_I'm thirty-two.  I played football and boxed in college before I joined up.  So I guess I’m just big dumb looking jock. I don't have much hair anymore since being in the army plus it gets too fuckin’ hot here.  I have brown eyes and tats. I’ve got them on my chest, shoulders, my right arm and down my legs. Matt’s got me beat though by a lot, both of his arms, his neck, etc._ **
> 
> **_I look pretty happy when I open your letters. At least, I feel that way. My unit knows your name on my letters by now, and they make sure to get them to me wherever I’m at on the base. I like getting your letters, Lennie. Don't ever think I don't._ **
> 
> **_I've even been wondering about you too, you know.  Every once in a while you say things that make me think you might be sick.  Are you? Sick, I mean? I hope not, obviously. You're still up and around, I know.  You’ve sent two more packages to the base that I saw._ **
> 
> **_Don't get sick on me._ **
> 
> **_-Tom_ **
> 
> **_P.S. Send me a picture back. I’d like to see what you look like too._ **

Lennie sets the letter down on her lap and slips her fingers back into the envelope.  She slowly pulls out the photo. “Oh my goodness,” she whispers tracing her fingers over his face.   _There he is._ The sun is setting in the background and there is a light glare just like Tom said, but she can see him clearly. It looks like someone took the picture on their down time, since Tom is sitting on the ground leaning up against some rocks.  He has a book in one hand and a German Shepherd laying its head on his leg, and he is resting his other hand on the dog’s scruff. She can only assume that is Xander. She can see his brown eyes and he has a bashful smile. She can see a ghost of a dimple.  He has a standard crew cut so he was not kidding about his hair. His shirt is missing and … “Oh my …” He was not kidding about the tattoos. They are bright and intricate and there are so many of them. And Matt has more? She traced the intricate design on his chest of what she thinks is a heart in a cage and two birds?   Lennie feels a little guilty that she cannot keep her eyes from roaming over his well-defined shoulders and arms. He’s gorgeous. Lennie leans back on her couch, throwing an arm over her eyes, "Crap on a cracker."

~*~

"Oh, he's devine, luv," Fergal smiles, holding up the picture of Tom.

"Yeah, he is," Lennie says, shoulders sagging even more.

He notices immediately that she is not happy, "What?"

Lennie slouches further into the couch, "He wants to see me, too.  He wants me to send a picture"

Fergal smiles brightly, "But that’s a good thing luv?"

"Fergie," she whines, flopping back against the couch, "He's not gonna like what he sees. I just know it."

"He wants to see you, luv," he tells her as he gets and grabs the photo album off the bookshelf," He wants to see you because you make him happy."

Lennie sighs heavily and picks up her notebook again.  She has been trying to write back to Tom. She explained that she is not sick, per se, but she does get sick easily.  She also tells him about how Fergal and his boyfriend, Joe, are helping her pick out a picture for him.

 

> _So with all that being said my friend, don't get your hopes up about the photo.  I'm not the best looking gal around. But, if I’m being honest, you certainly are quite handsome and I’m sure the girls are all over you._
> 
> _I'm really glad you're happy when you get my letters ... that makes me really, really happy.  :) Either way, you've got me, and I'll keep writing to you for as long as you want me to._
> 
> _I promise I'll try my best to not get sick._
> 
> _Be Safe,_
> 
> _-Lennie_

Lennie flinches at the picture Fergal's picked out.   She feels that she looks mousy in the picture, but if she keeps trying to look for another one, she was afraid she would just keep rejecting the choices.  

~*~

The air is suffocating, it is so cold. It is one of those days the chill takes your breath away. It makes her cough and take a few deep puffs from her inhaler, but she is determined to shovel this walkway since that worthless excuse of a superintendent did not come home last night. There are other people in this apartment building that need to do things, and she can fucking do this.

Only the next time she blinks, she is in the hospital.  She tilts her head and finds Joe sitting next to her in a chair, leaning forward with his elbows on the bed. Lennie lifts her hand and touches his hand, voice muffled by the oxygen mask over his face, "Joe?"

His head whips up to look at her, "Jesus, Lennie. Hey," He takes her hand, smiling a bit, "You face-planted into some ice."

"What?" Lennie reaches to try and get the mask off her, flinching at the IV stuck in her arm.

Joe moves her hands away from her face, gesturing about the mask, "You had an asthma attack, too. You can't be outside like that."

"I had to shovel the walkway." Lennie protests softly, leaving the mask where it is. Joe smiles, shaking his head.

"That’s what you pay that worthless Super for, baby girl." he explains.

"He wasn’t there," she mumbles.  

“That fucking idiot!" he growls and glares at her, "You could have died! What were you thinking? It's what?  Negative some odd number out there. You scratched up your face when you slipped and fell. You hit your head and are now under a concussion protocol."

"Stop yelling? We're in a hospital." Fergal hisses as he walks in taking off his coat.  His cheeks are red like he just come in from outside. He sees Lennie awake and his face brightens, "Lennie, how are ya’ feelin’ luv?"

She giggles which causes a coughing fit. She pushes the mask off her face, accepting a drink of water from a clear cup with a lid and straw. Joe sets it down after and runs his fingers through her hair, "I'm sorry.” he grumbled.  “Just stop scaring me like that. They found you freezing on the sidewalk." She gives him a soft smile and lays her head back. The ER lights hurt her eyes so she closes them trying to get some rest until they decide to kick her out.  She listens to them settle in around her. Fergal climbs on the bed with her. Joe is by her other side, running his fingers carefully over the cuts and scrapes that happened when she fell.

"How long was I out?" she asks, leaning her head toward his hand.

"About an hour and a half," Joe tells her softly,"I heard the call over the scanner and got there as fast as I could."

"You didn't have to," she holds the mask to her nose and mouth again and takes a few deep breaths.

"Nonsense. We love you baby girl," he says a bit fiercely, and Lennie wonders yet again why they love her.

"Hey, did you happen to check my mail?" she asks when she hears twin sighs.

"You almost died and you're still only thinking about him?" Fergal mutters shaking his head.

"I was supposed to get a letter today," she explains opening her eyes.

Joe was looking somewhere between fond and frustrated as he pulls a stack of envelopes from his inner jacket pocket and hands them to her.  Lennie is momentarily dizzy, but looks at all the envelopes before her eyes settle on Tom's and rips it open and ignoring the looks she gets as she unfolds the letter.

 

> **_Hey Lennie,_ **
> 
> **_Wow! Uh, you’re a girl.  This is a little embarrassing.  I wasn’t sure if you were a guy or a girl with how you spell your name.  Matt has not stopped giving me shit about it either. He said your handwriting is kinda girly and what guy sends baked goods and a knits a  blanket unless he’s gay, which is what I thought … and that just sounded so wrong … I’m gonna shut up now._ **

“Oh my God,” she mumbled under her mask.

“What?” Joe and Fergal asked at the same time.

“He thought I was a guy … a gay guy even …” she said looking back at the letter.

“What’s wrong with that?” Joe asked.  Lennie scowled at him as darkly as she could considering how weak she still was before she went back to reading her letter.  

 

> _**The blanket you sent smelled like my mom’s room when I was growing up too, so … yeah, see i totally should have been paying more attention.** _
> 
> _**I’m sorry!  I’m an idiot! Let’s see how I can dig myself out of this hole.** _
> 
> _**I do know with those big brown eyes a guy could get lost in them though.  I mean sure you're a bit too skinny, but it’s nothing that can't be fixed with some of my home cooking.  To be honest, I'm wondering why someone hasn't picked you up already. Definitely keeping this picture … it’s mine now and there ain’t nothin’ you can do about it.** _
> 
> _**Am I forgiven yet???** _
> 
> _**Knowing you’re there for me ... it gets me through some of the bad times. One of the guys got hurt today pretty bad in a roadside shooting.  I took the shooter out. I didn’t realize until afterwards that I'd made myself really vulnerable, and I could have easily been shot. I sat and looked at your picture until I was okay again.** _

 

Lennie's chest closes up and her heart rate elevates. Fergal springs up and fits the oxygen mask back on her face, "Lennie? What is it? Lennie?  Sweetheart, you need to breathe."

Lennie holds the mask, squeezes her eyes shut, and inhales deeply. _Tom could have been shot. Tom could have died._

"Baby girl, you need to calm down." Joe demands rubbing her legs, concerned but commanding then Lennie starts wheezing.

"Lennie!" Fergal yells squeezes her shoulder to make her look at him, "Breathe. Right now, in and out, with me. Don't panic."

She follows his breaths, breathes deeply on her inhaler that Joe pulled out from her coat pocket.  A nurse walks in seeing the commotion and quickly taking her stethoscope and checking Lennie’s lungs.

"He could have died," Lennie's says clutching the letter, "He could have been shot."

"But he wasn't, right? He's okay?" Fergal coaxes her into calmness, and she nods. He smooths her hair back, "Then don't worry. He's okay, Lennie."  Lennie nods again and continues with her letter.

 

> _**You mentioned that you thought the girls were all over me.  Well, yeah, there were a few girls along the way, nothing serious.  It’s just … i don’t think you'll think differently of me for saying this, but being over here, things are different.  The women are few and far between and sometimes … do you get what I’m saying? I don’t think I’m gay, but I don't know if I’m totally straight either, if that makes sense.** _
> 
> _**Just, keep writing to me. Okay?** _
> 
> _**My turn on the satellite phone is coming up.   You could send me your number, if you wanted to. I'd like to hear your voice.** _
> 
> _**-Tom** _
> 
> _**PS:  I’ve faced uncertain death, so you have to tell me your name now … right???** _

"Oh my god, he's so stupid," Lennie had been trying not to cry, but tears were leak out of the corners of her eyes, "He's too important," she whispers.  

Fergal smiles softly and nods.  He cards his fingers through her hair until she calms down.  He kisses her temple, "Yeah, he definitely is."

~*~

 

> _Tom,_
> 
> _You scared me so much. Don't ever do that again!  I can't lose you._
> 
> _Don't worry about me, worry about you. I've been skinny forever it seems. I'm not going to drop dead or anything.  Of course, I'll stay with you. I bet your cooking is awesome, I can't wait to have some. Just get home safe, ok? That's all I ask._
> 
> _You thought I was a guy?  Well, that’s um, yeah. I hadn’t even thought about that, but I guess I never clarified and I can see how you might think that.  Oh well, yeah, sorry to disappoint?_
> 
> _I'm actually a little flattered that you would think someone would want to take me out. The few men I've been with treated me … not the way I should have been treated and we will leave it at that.  Maybe when you get back, I could take you out … on a date … or something. Maybe. Or not … I’m going to stop now._
> 
> _About what you mentioned in your last letter … I think the proper term is “how you identify,” that makes no difference to me.  It is hard enough to find love, affection and/or companionship in this world. I never understood why someone’s gender is a predefining consideration.  Just be happy being you. That’s all I want._
> 
> _I really hope your friend is okay.  What you did was very brave and I'm proud of you, so proud.  I'll send you and Xander another package real soon. You really want to talk to me?  Okay. My number is listed down at the bottom._
> 
> _Please stay safe._
> 
> _-Lennie_
> 
> _PS:  And no, not even your uncertain death will not pry it from my soul._

Her hand shakes a little bit when she writes down her number.  She seals the envelope and holds it to her chest before she slides it into the mailbox.

She makes a package for the wounded soldier, with treats and medical supplies taking up most of it, and sends that out as well. Skylar asks her about her pen pal, and she ends up gushing about how special Tom is, how brave he is, and how she may just be falling for him.

~*~

It's a few days later and Lennie is fresh out of the shower, quick to dry off and get dressed. It was a pretty nice day actually.  The sun is out and Lennie opened a window to get the musty smell out of the apartment. She settles down on the couch with her pad, tracing the lines of Tom's hands over again. How can she not help but draw him. She has drawn him bundled up in winter clothes, drawn him in a sweater falling back into a pile of fall leaves.  

She has even drawn a picture of him filling in the empty side of her bed.  That is what she wants the most. She wants to wrap herself around him, hold him and breath him in.  She does not want him off in some foreign country fighting a faceless enemy. She wants him here, in her little apartment.  She wants to take him to dinner, make out with him on her worn couch while they try and decide what to watch on Netflix. She wants Tom to kiss her so hard she feels it down to her toes.  

The phone rings and she sighs heavily and clears her throat as she picks it up. "Hello?" There is a bit of static on the line, and she can hear someone breathing. Lennie sits up a bit more, brows knit together, "Hello?"

"Len-" the voice clears his throat, "Lennie? Is this Lennie Kennedy?"

"Yes, this is.  How can I help you?" She can hear talking in the background under the static, and fidgeting over the receiver.  Someone saying, “Tommy! You gonna talk to her or breathe on her?!” Lennie's eyes widen, pressing the phone closer against her ear, "Tom? Tom!"

There is a hoarse laugh/cough on the other end, "Jesus, your voice is not what I expected,” he says clearing his throat again."

Lennie smiles widely, "Oh, my god! Hi. I … Uh, wait … is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

He chuckles deeply in his chest, "I could sit here and listen to your read the fuckin’ phonebook …”  This makes her giggle.

“Dude!” she hears in the background followed by some scuffling.  “You’re doin’ it wrong man!”

She can hear Tom reply muffled probably by his hand, “If you don’t fuckin’ stop Matt, my foot is gonna go so far up your Goddamn ass,”  She can hear some more scuffling before Tom comes back on the line. “(Get off) … Sorry about that. Matt’s … an idiot. So, hi! How are you?" Tom asks.

She can still hear some mild scuffling.  "I'm... I'm good. Really good. I was in the hospital a few days ago, but I’m all fine now," Lennie tells him, curling up on the couch.

"Hospital? Wait!  What! Are you okay?" Tom sounds slightly panicked and concerned.  Lennie just wants to hug him tight and not let him go.

"I'm fine, I promise. It had snowed and I was shoveling.  It was too cold and my asthma flared up. I losted my step, slipped on some ice, and knocked myself out," Tom makes a gasping noise and Lennie shakes her head, "No! No, I'm okay! Stop that.  I’m fine, really."

"I'm just worried about you. I swear, I'm gonna wrap you up in bubble wrap." Tom says, and laughs at Lennie’s giggle.

"I would probably pop it all rolling down the stairs when I trip over my own two feet. Holding me close works best," she tells him conspiratorially.  

"Then I'll just have to hold you as close as possible," he says and she can hear the smile in his voice followed by hoots and hollers in the background.

"Close as possible, man!" Someone yells and Tom yells at them to shut up, "That's why you carry her picture everywhere!" There are mock kissing noises and Tom's grumbling as wind swirls around like he has moved outside.

Lennie's whole face is red, her ears and probably down the back of her neck too. She smiles, arm hugging herself as she pulls her blanket up and around herself, "You-you keep my picture with you?" she asks in a small, shy voice.

Tom chuckles softly, "Yeah,” he drawls, “I-I do. It’s just ... you know," he mumbles and Lennie can hear him switching the receiver from one ear to the next.  

"No, I don't know. I think you need to explain it to me," Lennie teases biting her lip expectantly.  She wants to make him say it.

"Because I kinda like ya’," Tom mumbles shyly and Lennie can tell he is smiling.

Lennie smiles brightly and tries not to pinch herself, “Well good,” she laughs, “I kinda like you too." Tom laughs and she thinks that is probably the best sound in the world.

"Oh yeah? How much?" Tom's teasing back now.

Lennie can only be completely honest at this point, "Enough to want you next to me every night when I go to sleep."

Tom goes quiet for a few moments.  His breathing was a little off. She can almost hear the shiver when he says, "Jesus, Lennie. I want that, too."

"My bed's not that big, but we could make it work until we can get something big enough for you to sleep on," Lennie says, and her stomach tied up in knots.  

"You're damn right we will,” he says softly.  “Soon as I get back," Tom sounds a little choked up.

"Hey!” Lennie cries out, clearing her throat and swallowing past the lump.  “I brought my Christmas tree out of storage," she tells him, "I'll put a present under it for you."

"You gonna sit under your tree until I’m discharged?" Tom teases again.

Lennie laughs brightly, "Why Captain, does that mean you want me wrapped up with a bow for Christmas?"

Tom coughed several times to clear his throat and breathed into the phone, "Yeah … Yeah, I do."  

Lennie takes a few deep breaths to calm herself , closes her eyes and smiles up at the ceiling, "Are you gonna pick me up and take me out on a date then Captain?"

"Nah, I'll let you take me out to like Coney Island or somethin’.  Never been there. We'll stuff ourselves full on boardwalk food to get some weight on you," Tom says making Lennie giggle.

"I really love that idea," Lennie says absently twirling the phone cord.  

Tom takes a deep breath, "Me too. Listen, Lennie, I gotta go... Tell me something to get me through to your next letter, okay?"

Lennie does not want him to go. She finds herself speaking before she thinks about it, "We'll go to the movies and we'll make out in the back row until we get ourselves thrown out."

Tom swallows heavily, "Oh, oh wow. Uh,” he says trying to clear his head, “I, I sent you something today. It's um ... Don't … it's nothing big. Just something some of the other guys do, and I just thought ... I’ve got someone now ... so, just um …  I'll see you later, alright?"

"Of course, Tom. I'll be waiting for your surprise.  Just please be safe," she says. Lennie thinks she should tell him she loves him. Tom hangs there for a second too, before the line disconnects.

Lennie dreams of Tom.  Her back is resting against his broad chest and his is leaning back against those rocks in the picture as he reads to her.

~*~

The letter comes three days later. It is in an insulated envelope.  It is taped so tightly Lennie has to use her scissors to get it open.  While putting them back, she tips the envelope too far and a pair of dog tags plop down on the counter.

Lennie lifts them up delicately. They are pretty beat up, well worn and a little dented. Tom's name is on them, his rank. Lennie runs her fingers over the metal before checking back in the envelope and pulls out a sliver of paper.

 

> **_Now before you freak out, those are my old ones. I got issued new ones, so I'm not running around nameless or anything.  These are for you._ **
> 
> **_There's this sort of tradition for the troops around here. They send out their old tags to a family member, a spouse; hell, even one of the guys sends them out to his dog so they can be clipped onto her collar. So whoever's back home has a piece of them. You're not a family member, or my spouse, but you’re really important to me._ **
> 
> **_It's okay if you don't want them, it's just a dumb tradition. I thought I'd give it a try now that I've got you. Whatever we are, I'm just glad I’ve got you._ **
> 
> **_-Tom_ **

Lennie swallows thickly and smiles, then slips the chain around her neck.

~*~

Over the next few days, Lennie goes to work knitting another blanket for Tom and one for Xander, as well as writing to Tom.  She keeps it short this time because she knows if she does not then she will just ramble through the letter. She tells Tom that she wears the tags all the time.  Joe even took a picture of her absently playing with his dog tags while looking out the window when they were out to lunch. She decided to send the picture with her letter.  She asks Tom if she can refer to him as her boyfriend. She decides to send off the letter before she loses her nerve or confesses her undying love for him or something equally foolish.  She decided that she wanted to tell him that in person.

~*~

Lennie fiddles with the tags as she waits for her breakfast, feet swinging on the stool in the diner. She is bundled up as the weather has turned bitter again with flurries.  She did not want to get sick again.

It is really getting close to Christmas. Lennie has put up her tree and took a picture for Tom  She sent it with a short note asking him to put it next to his bunk and think about her there with him. She has not gotten anything back yet, but it always takes at least a few days.

This is a recurring theme now, Lennie imagining Tom is here with her.  Them sitting at this bar, in this diner, and Tom will lay his hand on Lennie's thigh, just to let her know he is there. Lennie smiles, thinking about it, and continues to smile when her meal comes. She has been eating more for Tom too and going for more walks to build up her strength and tolerance.  She has as well as started working out with Joe at the gym at his precinct. It is always dangerous for her in the winter, so Lennie always gets hot coffee, chocolate or tea and has her inhaler with her at all times. Trudging through the snow back and forth to work has made her muscles ache, but in a good way.  The kind of way that will make Tom smile.

The TV that is hanging from the shelve in the corner is on and she can hear the news in the background talking about the weather, more snow. _Great!_ Lennie thinks as she shovels over easy egg bits into her mouth.   _Better call the oil company to makes sure the tank is refilled for the building before that happens_.  There is another report on the health of students and when they are being tested, followed by another on book sales based on celebrity casts. Lennie looks up again as it's ending and 'BREAKING NEWS' moves across the screen. The volume is low enough that Lennie can just hear it, but she can read the words 'Bombing on army base camp - reporter on the scene'.

"Hey, can you turn this up?" Lennie asks the waitress, and she does just as the camera cuts to scenes of the wreckage.

"Our reporter was originally on a different assignment when this tragedy took place. Here you can see first hand footage of the wreckage. Thankfully, it seems the bombers were inexperienced and none of our brave soldiers died. There are twelve confirmed as severely injured." The reporter says and Lennie watches through the reporter's dust caked camera lens, shakily taking in footage of blown up cots and medics running around. There are men being carried around on stretchers.

Lennie’s heart stops. Because under dirt and blood, _so much blood_ , she sees a familiar face. Lennie sits up straighter and waves her hand at the waitress, "Can you go back? Just a little? Please."

She looks concerned but rewinds the broadcast until Lennie tells her to stop, and Lennie goes white as a sheet. It is Tom.  She can tell it is him. There is a blanket over him soaked with blood on one side, and his face is pale. He looks so lifeless.

~*~


	3. Chapter 3

~*~

Lennie wakes up feeling worn and heavy. She feels off balance when she gets up and pulls her sweater tighter around her body. Tom's tags click softly against what feels like a giant black hole in her chest.  

She opens the bedroom door slowly.  She can hear the television in the living room.  Lennie moves down the hallway, passing Fergal's spare room/office.  The walls are covered with his drawings and scene boards for his graphic novels.  She can see him working diligently at his drawing desk. She does not try to get his attention.  She moves down the hallway to the bathroom and looks at herself to in the mirror. She is a mess and her stomach is starting to hurt from being hungry, even though she does not feel like eating. 

She turns on the sink and pushes her sleeves up, running her hands under the hot water. She imagines Tom there, coming up behind her to hug her tight.  Lennie feels that familiar lump of a sob in her throat and leans over the counter. She takes a deep breath and presses wet hands to her face trying to breathe again. She thinks back to that night on the phone, when they both lingered for too long at the end. Lennie should have told him … should have told him she loved him.

The television is playing in the background: "We have an update on the base that was attacked early yesterday morning. There are teams starting to clean up and salvage what items they can. There are currently only three soldiers listed in a critical condition and under close observation. The terrorists have been apprehended." the reporter's voice is muffled but Lennie can hear it just the same.  _ No body count. Just three soldiers in intensive care _ .

Lennie laughs through her tears.  That is the best news she has heard all day.  Tom could still be critically injured but he was alive.  Someone is taking care of him even if she cannot. "Lennie?" Fergal's voice comes from down the hall, then she hears his feet pad softly towards her.  He sets his hand on her shoulder, "Are ya’ alright, luv?"

"Yeah," Lennie looks up at him, “He’s not dead Fergie.  Tom’s not dead.” 

"Did someone call?" He looks around thinking he was too wrapped up in his work and missed the call.  

"No, they said it on the news.  There's three soldiers in intensive care, but that's it. Tom could still be okay," she beams.  

Fergal smiles indulgently at her and tucks a curl behind her ear, "Let’s just hope and pray that is true until we get some confirmation from Joe’s contacts,” he tells her.  “Come on luv, let’s get a cuppa in ya’ and some food. Ya’ must be famished.” 

~*~

She dreams of Tom again that night. They are making out on Lennie's couch.  It is so vivid. Lennie can feel the sweat building on their bare skin. She can feel Tom's strong thighs that her legs are wrapped around, her fingers running up and down Tom's stomach.  His skin warm and soft; muscles are bunching where her fingers caress. Then Tom is kissing her. His mouth feels so real, so soft. Lennie melts into it, presses her chest to Tom's and arches her back when Tom's hands drag up it.   She wakes up to the ghost of the feel of Tom's chest against hers. She wants to go back to sleep, to go back to that dream, but she is not able to. Instead, she begrudgingly gets up and gets dressed, makes herself some breakfast and checks the mail.  

There is a stack of mail … bills, junk mail, flyers and a letter from a Paul Levesque from an overseas address.  She takes a healthy spoonful of her yogurt and fruit as she opens it. 

> _ I'm writing this letter on behalf of Captain Thomas 'Tom' Pestock. _

Lennie's stomach twists and the yogurt curdles in her stomach. 

> _ He asked me to write this letter if he was ever hurt, killed, or deemed missing in action. I'm thanking whatever deities were shining down on him that I don't have to tell you that he's dead. He's been wounded, pretty badly, and was airlifted to an area hospital.  _
> 
> _ We are in the special operations team together, and we had a mission to check in with the locals. We had been bringing supplies to families in a village close to the base at our usual time, so the bombers knew we were coming.  They strapped a bomb to our vehicle, and another to one that was heading back to camp. I'm still fucking pissed I missed them. But thankfully, we were all outside of the Jeep when the bomb went off, but Tom was the closest. He'd pushed some guys out of the way, saved them from getting hurt. _
> 
> _ The blast threw me back into some rocks.  I got myself a concussion and passed out. When I came to, I saw the damage. The blast had blown the Jeep pretty much apart, but what was left of it had turned over and pinned Tom's leg.  It messed him up pretty badly.  _
> 
> _ I won't go into the details but the team got it off him, called in for reinforcement. They lifted him away while the rest of us were driven back to camp for medical attention. He was in rough shape the last time I saw him, but I'm told that he's stable now, and he was about to go in for his second surgery. _
> 
> _ If it makes you feel any better, the last words he said to me were your name and "safe". I don't have anything else to tell you, but I hope this put you at ease. _
> 
> _ Sincerely, _
> 
> _ Commander Paul Levesque _

Lennie wipes her eyes, recalling the images her brain supplies from his word. She sits there and reads it over and over again until her watery eyes are blocking her view. She does not call anyone straight away. She lets the information sink in and reviews it: Tom was hurt, Tom was airlifted to a hospital, Tom is stable, Tom has been having surgeries, Tom is  alive. Tom thought about her when he was hurt. She smiles shakily and rubs her eyes again, before sliding off her seat. She takes down the photo that is propped up by the box she keeps Tom's letters in. She runs her fingertips over it, looking over Tom's smiling face. That crooked smile might be a little bit broken right now, but she would help him get through this anyway she could.  

~*~

Lennie gets a call in the dead of night two weeks later. She groggily answers it, already starting to settle back into sleep.

"Lennie, It’s Joe.  I've gotten a call from one of my contacts. They've moved Tom out of intensive care.  He’s on an army base in Germany for now. They had to … they amputated his left leg below the knee Lennie,” Joe explains.

“Oh dear God,” she whispered covering her lips with her fingers sitting up straight in bed.  “But he’s … he’s gonna be okay, right? When is he coming home? Can I see him?” she asks. 

“I-I don't know much more than that baby girl, but my friend will contact me when he has more info.  The only thing he told me was Tom will be there for about a month,” Lennie swallows loudly at that, “but … he’s, they’re supposed to be starting him on his physical therapy there and when he is stronger, they will send him back to the states.  California, I think Jon said.”

“Okay, okay.  He’s alive. I’ll focus on that.  Can I at least write to him?” she asks grabbing a pad and pen from her nightstand. 

“I’ll have to get that for you in the morning baby girl,” Joe explained.

“Of course.  Of course. Thank you so much for checking on this for me.  I know I’ve been a mess. I- I think I love him, Joe,” she finished in a whisper.

“We know you do sweetheart.  I’ll find out what I can, but you gotta prepare yourself.  Injuries like this change a person. Not to mention what he saw and/or maybe did over there.  It stays with a person. Him gettin’ home is only the first part. You guys’ll have a long road ahead of you, but we will do all we can for you both,” Joe tells her before he tells her goodnight and hangs up.

Lennie holds and presses Tom’s dog tags to her chest.  He will be home. He is safe. He is alive. She could work with that.  

~*~  

Two days later, there was a knock on Lennie’s door.  She was working on restocking her supplies for her care packages at the time.  She stopped what she was doing and answered the door. There was a tall man with buzzed hair and a lot of tattoos up and down his arms and neck. Lennie blinks.  This did not look like Tom, but there was still something familiar about the tattoos. He looks a little anxious and was looking over his shoulder at the box truck that was parked in the street.  He was rubbing his hands together when he asks, “Lennie?”

 

“Yes,” she says cautiously, “how can I help you?”

 

“Oh, thank God!” he exclaims and wraps his arms around her hugging her tight.  “He didn't say you were so tiny,” he mumbles to himself ignoring her stiff, tense stance.

 

“Um, who said I was tiny and by the way, who the hell are you and why the hell are you hugging me,” she asks tersely.  “You are aware that you're violating my bubble. I’m going to have to ask you to take a step back,” she says.

 

“What?  Oh shit!  Sorry! I’m Matt.  Matt Polinsky? Tom’s friend.  You make the best chocolate chip cookies, by the way,” he gushes.

 

“Matt?” she parrots, “Tom?  What? How? Where?” she stutters.

 

“Oh!  He’s still in Germany.  He’ll be back in the states maybe by the end of the month or next.  I, uh, need a favor?” he explains in a rush.

 

A large man with long blonde hair tied back in a pony tail stepped out of the driver’s side and yells over to Matt, “Is she gonna help or what?”

 

Lennie covers her eyes from the sun to see better, “Will?” she asks instantly recognizing the strong Bronx accent of the TA from her biology class at NYU.  

 

“Lennie?” he yells, “Holy shit!  Ernie get ova here. It’s Little Lennie from Art class from back in tha day, How you doin’?”  

 

Ernie waves from his seat in the car parked behind the truck, “Dis is Tommy’s girl?” 

 

Matt shrugs, “Apparently.  I didn't know you knew the guys.  Anyways, I need some help with Xander.  He’s too much for my apartment and my landlord’s having a fit.  I cant keep him and he really doesn't fit with anyone else, so I thought …”

 

“You thought what?  That you would bring him to me?  I don't know anything about dogs.  I’ve never had one. I’m allergic to everything under the sun … how can I even …” she frets worrying her hands.  

 

Matt leans in closely talking softly to her, “If I can't figure out something, they’re gonna put him down.  He’s been unfit since Tom got hurt. The only time he calms down is when he curls up on that blanket you knitted for Tom.  I just thought, maybe …”

 

Lennie stomps her foot and growls in aggravation, “I promise nothing,” she mumbles. He walks her over to the back of the box truck and opens the back.  The largest dog Lennie had ever seen charges head first to the front of the kennel that it is secured in, barking and snarling at them. Its teeth were bared. He growls, howls and snaps causing her to jump.  Tom adored this animal. She could do this for him. 

 

Lennie takes a deep breath and stares the dog down in the eye.  He flinches slightly and sits. She waggles her finger at him, “You behave yourself in my house or so help me I will paddle your butt blue, do you understand me Alexander Pestock?” He laid down in his kennel and stared up at her with big brown eyes and whined.  She opened the latch to the kennel and held her hand out to him. He sniffed it barked and licked her fingers. She patted his head and he rolled over on his back for a belly rub. “You ain't so tough,” she giggled turning her attention back to Matt, “So? Now what?”

 

~*~

**Author's Note:**

> I will be using the wrestlers real names vs. their character names. I own nothing and I'm only borrowing them to play in my sandbox. I have nothing but respect and admiration for the work they do and for allowing us into their lives.
> 
> Eleanor  Rose “Lennie” Kennedy 
> 
> Captain (Baron Corbin) Thomas Pestock
> 
>  Xander


End file.
